by Devon Ashley
“Her mother married a warlock?” cried Emily, shooting up in bed. She wished she hadn’t for she immediately felt nauseous and dizzy.
“Evil warlock. There’s a difference. And she was seduced,” Noel explained as he got up and went to the bathroom.
Emily lay back down again and blew out several breaths until the sickness subsided. “So what happened to her mother?”
Noel reappeared, opened a bottle of pain reliever and handed Emily a few pills.
“Thank you.” She swallowed them with a swig of her water.
“Abby’s mother was nine months pregnant when she realized who the man really was. She did what any woman in her position would do; she ran. She did everything right. Placed multiple protection spells on herself and Abby, constantly changed locations and updated the spells. But the burden of it all was really hard on her. Eventually, Abby’s father caught up with them and killed her.”
“And Abby?”
Noel hesitated. “Watched him do it.”
He began pacing in front of the bed, avoiding all eye contact. Past experience told Emily this was not a good sign.
“When he found them, they were living in a cottage in the woods. Abby was three and playing outside, not too far from the home. She heard her mother screaming and came running. When she peeked through the back window she saw her mother tied up, being burned alive by a man.”
Emily forced herself up and leaned against the headboard. Her head filled with pressure and her eyes were heavy but she didn’t care. “So he found Abby?”
“No, he never found Abby. She knew to run. Even if it meant leaving her mother behind.”
Aghast, Emily replied, “She was three! How do you possibly tell a toddler to do that?”
Noel shrugged. “How do you teach any child how to behave? How to have morals? How to react in certain instances? It’s the same thing I’m doing right now.”
Emily looked to him in confusion. Had he actually answered her question or was her head hurting so much she was no longer processing the information correctly?
“It’s simple,” he explained, though Emily was having difficulty agreeing. “Stories. Her mother told her several tales in which the mother was in life-threatening situations, but both the little girl and mother would live so long as the little girl ran away quietly.”
Emily felt a sharp pain in her chest and gently rubbed it. She closed her eyes and heartbreakingly said, “She was waiting for her mother to come and get her in the woods when you found her, wasn’t she?”
Noel was standing next to Abby when Emily opened her eyes again. He was gently stroking her cheek. She seemed at peace.
“She didn’t really want to go with me at first. Not until I told her I would go back and look for her mother once I brought her here. Which I did. I found the cottage a few weeks later. It was so secluded, no one had found her body yet.”
Disgusted, Emily pinched her eyes but she couldn’t get the image of a badly burned and decomposing body out her mind. She was in disbelief. “And Abby told you all this?”
“Of course not. Like you said, she was only three. Her mother kept a diary hidden underneath the bottom drawer in her bedroom chest. I took that, some spell books, a few toys and some jewelry.”
Emily looked down to Abby’s left hand. Her index finger held an antique ring, as well as her wedding finger. A cross made of garnets lay on her chest. “Are they the ones she’s wearing now?”
“Yeah. One ring I returned to her when she left school. The necklace I gave her for her eighteenth birthday. The other ring I gave to her in place of an engagement ring.”
Emily raised her eyebrows at him. “You hadn’t returned it to her by that point in time?”
Noel glared at her. “I had always intended on giving it back to her. I was waiting for a rainy day, some point in time when she needed a pick-me-up.”
Emily smiled mischievously. “Your engagement was a rainy day occurrence? Afraid she would say no on a good day?”
“Shut up,” he said playfully as he returned to the arm chair.
Emily sat up straighter in bed. The pain medicine was beginning to help. “Okay, in all seriousness, what were her father’s intentions?”
“Well, he wasn’t in the relationship for love if that’s what you’re asking. He strictly wanted a child that could perform magic for both sides. Maybe he wouldn’t have killed her mother had she not run. We just don’t know.”
“But you have a pretty good idea, don’t you?” He avoided her stare. After a moments silence, Emily pushed further for the answer. “Come on Noel. You’ve had two centuries to think about this. What do you think he wanted with Abby?”
Reluctantly, he slowly answered, “I think he wanted Abby to do what she did with me. Blend in with her own kind to take them down from within.”
“To kill good witches?”
“That’s my best guess. Not only would Abby have been able to counteract their spells but she would have been able to protect her father and his friends in the process. In case you haven’t witnessed it yourself, she’s pretty powerful in that department.”
Every department. One of the few things Emily knew about Abby from the beginning was that she was a witch. This was the first she had really heard of her heritage, but it seemed to Emily that mixing good with evil wasn’t a common thing to do. Doubtfully, she asked Noel, “So, Abby comes from both sides of magic. Is this a good thing?”
The change in Noel’s expression suggested otherwise.
“Opposites don’t really attract when they involve a single person. Everyone has a good versus evil competition going on inside his mind, but with Abby, it’s an epic battle. As much as she wants to be good, the lure of the other side is strong and right underneath the skin, tempting her, baiting her. There’s an evil inside her that’s as much a part of her as her good side. And there have been a couple of times in her life when she’s succumbed to it.”
He trailed off, obviously reliving the outcome in his mind but not sharing it with Emily.
“And?” Emily pursued.
“And…she’s killed a few people. People she was meant to protect. People that didn’t always deserve to die. And every time it happens, it becomes harder and harder for me to bring her back.” His head hung low as he stared down at the floor. Sounding defeated, he added, “And I honestly don’t know if I can do it anymore. Her evil side is incredibly strong.”
So Abby was not only a pure vampire but a super scary evil witch as well. Great. Emily’s head hurt just thinking it. Processing that information along with Noel’s obvious fear of her evil side would take brain power she wasn’t going to find today. She thought back to how they even came upon this conversation.
Oh, yeah… “So what exactly was her only fear?”
“Herself,” Noel answered. “I’m telling you that the greatest evil she fears is not a demon, not even one blessed by a god. Abby knows what she can become, what she has become and what she could do in that moment. Nothing scares her more than when she takes on her father’s attributes. Abby’s one fear is herself.”
Emily softly responded, “I’ve never seen her that way.”
“You’ve only known her for two years. That’s less than one percent of her life. Trust me, when the stress builds, she blows. And when she does – be somewhere else.”
Chapter Fourteen
The hunters had been back in the manor for a solid month without incidence. Abigail Sorrensten had been present a mere day before she was attacked outside the gates. Moore didn’t like coincidences. Given the nature of her past, it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe that trouble seemed to follow her wherever she went.
“Do you suppose the demon followed her here or perhaps came by its own accord?” asked Lincoln. He was standing with Moore at the large windows in his office looking to the woods beyond their protective borders.
Moore had been wondering that himself. “Let’s hope the former. The latter would mean it came within one mile of our
fortress intentionally. Not to necessarily attack Abigail, but to cause harm to any hunter it could get its hands on.”
“The little one did seem to attack Mira when there were four to choose from.”
Moore grunted in disapproval. He was greatly upset to learn Abigail had taken three of his huntresses outside the protection of the manor. He probably never would have learned this had Mira not been attacked and suffered a concussion. He feared Abigail’s intentional disregard for his authority would brush off on the others under his command.
“Unfortunately,” Moore said, “I do believe Morphus has been released and is looking to get rid of as many hunters as possible before confrontation.”
Lincoln nodded in agreement. “Were your contacts able to tell you anything regarding the longevity of Abigail and Noel?”
“Not yet, but they’re looking into it. Their only suggestion as of yet is vampirism but I’m still leaning in favor of magic.”
Moore turned and headed for the hallway. He needed to make his rounds. Usually done once a day, he couldn’t in good conscious believe the manor was safe and secure without witnessing it firsthand several times per day now. Lincoln followed suit.
Keeping his voice low, Lincoln replied, “Vampirism does make sense.”
“Did you not notice the cross she wore around her neck? One tends to be eliminated from that list when the skin does not singe.”
“True,” said Lincoln. After a moment of thinking he added, “Perhaps it’s possible they’ve recently been reincarnated and just aren’t admitting to it.”
Moore nodded in disagreement. “I’ve seen the mark on her shoulder. We would have been drawn to her after birth.”
Condescendingly, Lincoln replied, “You mean like the last time? If I’m not mistaken they missed her then too.”
“That’s true,” Moore agreed, though he was still doubtful of reincarnation. How would both have been reincarnated, gone by the same names, found one another all over again and gained knowledge they couldn’t have had without witnessing it for themselves?
Together they passed one of the common rooms. This one in particular was usually frequented by the two male hunters because it had a television. More than happy to keep hunters entertained within manor walls, Moore set up the large screen television with game consoles. He then supplied a large number of ridiculously over the top violent games to keep their attention – which was quite easy to come by. Sure enough, Daniel and Christoph were on the floor playing some intergalactic battle game while Anita and Giselle watched from the sofa.
Moore and Lincoln continued on.
“I need to be honest with you for a moment,” Lincoln said gravely. “I have doubts about Abigail’s abilities and the faith we’re putting in her for this battle. What happens is she loses? Look what that demon did to her. How will she ever hold up against Morphus?”
Moore too had these thoughts going through his mind but had the sense to keep them to himself. There was enough unrest going on about the manor and he didn’t feel they should add to it. However, he couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping Abigail. Days had passed since she was injured and he had yet to see her again (not that he was truly complaining about that). Noel had flat out refused to inform him of her status. Emily was no help either, pretending not to know when he knew for a fact she had spent quite some time locked up in the suite with them.
“What would you have me do, Lincoln?” he asked, stopping to face him head on.
“Set aside your pride and seek out the magical community. Someone, somewhere has found the lost containment spell originally used on Morphus.”
“Say by some miniscule chance the spell has been located. The very spell created by a god and performed by one blessed with the powers to cast it. I am quite certain only the ordained huntress was meant to cast that spell. No other will do.”
Moore continued on, leaving Lincoln quiet for once. When they turned the corner, they finally reached the outer hallways near the back door. To his surprise, Noel had insisted on cleaning up the bloody walls himself, stating it would be unfair to ask anyone to help. Though the physical blood was gone, red smears still stained the walls. He and Lincoln stood there silently for a few minutes, watching his staff paint new stripes of color over what was to be another bad memory for the Order.
Chapter Fifteen
There was a slow and groggy pull inside Abby’s body. Before she could feel anything, she could sense Noel through the haze. He was close. First was the flutter of her eyes, then sparks of movement in the muscles throughout her arms and legs. As her vision came into focus, she gazed upon Noel. As she sensed, he was laying beside her in bed, watching her every move, smiling as she woke.
“Good morning,” he said warmly.
Abby’s left dimple pinched as the corner of her mouth expanded upward in his direction. She slowly raised her arms and patted her neck to inspect the wounds – mostly healed. Despite her recent ordeal, she felt quite refreshed.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
“A few days.”
Abby knew she should stay in bed and rest longer, but she was never one to be laid up. Determined, she rolled away from him, onto her side. She leaned on the night stand for support and forced her upper body to rise. Her hand knocked over the transfusion equipment left on the nightstand.
“Emily?”
“Universal donor. Got lucky there.” He wrapped his body around her from behind and she rolled back into his chest. Her legs swayed back and forth, kicking her heels against the bed, waiting for signs of life.
“So how do you feel?” Noel asked, offering his hands.
She took his into hers and began flexing her fingers, squeezing as hard as she could. “Like I had the crap beaten out of me.”
“Oh, well honey, you did,” Noel said sarcastically.
Abby huffed, but smiled too.
“On the bright side, everything seems to be working again.”
He pulled out from behind her and went into the bathroom. He returned with a glass of blue tonic water and tried to hand it to her. Her stomach growled and her face cringed. She didn’t need to smell the stuff to know she wouldn’t like it.
“No way am I touching that nasty potion,” she said boldly.
“I’ve changed the formula. I added vanilla to make it taste better.”
Abby accepted it but still eyed it reluctantly. Alcohol never sat well with her system. “How much vanilla?”
“Like I’d really load you up with enough alcohol to throw your balance off. Just drink the tonic, Abby. You’ll feel better quicker.”
She sipped the tonic. Her face puckered again. She gagged, covered her mouth and mumbled in disgust, “Oh my God!”
“I said it tasted better, not great.”
Abby continued to force the sour tonic down in sips. She could taste a hint of vanilla but the potion left a bitter aftertaste that was similar to vinegar. Her stomach gurgled and burned.
“Water,” she coughed after her last sip of tonic.
“No. You’ll dilute it,” Noel said firmly, relieving her of the glass.
Smartly, she rebutted, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do after drinking poison? Or is it throw up?” She took several long, deep breaths. She was so disgusted she had uncontrollable spasms jolt through her body.
“Have you spoken with Valerie yet?” he evaded.
Confused, she asked, “Who?”
“Valerie. Hunter slash clairvoyant. Never stands in a crowd.”
Abby vaguely remembered the girl watching her the first night. “Likes to hide in the shadows?”
“That’s her.”
Abby swayed forward and stood up slowly, pressing down on Noel’s shoulder for support. He held on tightly to her waist and kept her upright. Her legs tingled but stood firm.
“No, haven’t bothered talking to her. Why?” she asked, taking her first steps.
Valerie was leaning over the balcony watching the hunters stretch as they prepare
d for their evening training session. Already bored with the view, she turned to leave. She came to an abrupt halt when Abby stepped out of the shadows and directly in her path. She pulled the musical buds from her ears. A soft and subtle tune hummed through.
She seemed unaffected by the sight before her, as if she already knew. Abby had completely healed. No bandages or scars remained. It had only been four days since her encounter with the grinloch.
Finally catching her in the light, Abby looked her up and down. Valerie had very distinct and attractive features - high cheekbones, sleek almond hair and rich green eyes the shade of moss. She too was naturally lean and semi-muscular but her lack of activity made her less firm than the rest of the huntresses.
“So, you must be the Order’s resident psychic,” Abby said condescendingly.
Sensing the annoyance in Abby’s voice, Valerie instinctively took a step back.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“Then tell me…” Abby quickly punched Valerie in the eye. She fell backwards to the floor and smacked her head.
“…did you see that coming?” she finished.
Quite some time passed before Valerie returned to consciousness. Abby passed the time watching the hunters practice down below. She stayed in the shadows this time to avoid detection. A few had potential. The rest she wouldn’t trust to send out on their own. They had just dispersed for the evening and turned off the lights when Valerie stirred.
She was propped up against the wall, faintly lit by the evening colors seeping in through the nearby window. Her puffy eye had already turned shades of purple and black.
Still, Abby had no pity for her at the moment. “I’m guessing you were removed from training duties at a really young age. You lack the skills to fall properly.”
Valerie wobbled as she climbed the wall to stand up. She caressed her face, particularly the muscles around the eye that were twitching. “Was that really necessary?” she asked with a sense of annoyance.
“Well, I thought you were psychic. You did tell Noel about a beat-down I was gonna receive right before I got it. Thought you would’ve seen that coming too.”